


Uncommon Friendships (and Flings)

by FreyReh



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Genre: F/M, Interspecies Sex, Smut, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-24 19:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyReh/pseuds/FreyReh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The turtles have made some new friends… Slayers, ghosts, and even a witch or two… Watch as they try to adapt to the supernatural world and all the trials it brings! Buffy/Leo, Raph/Faith, Don/Anya, Mikey/Angel(TMNT)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: Uncommon Friendships (and Flings)

Summary: The turtles have made some new friends… Slayers, ghosts, and even a witch or two… Watch as they try to adapt to the supernatural world and all the trials it brings!

Rated: NC-17, yes, first part and there will already be smut… Smiley

Fandom(s): BTVS/TMNT  
Pairings: Faith/Raph, Leo/Buffy, Anya/Don, Mikey/Angel(TMNT)

Dis: I don't own BTVS nor TMNT!

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The lair seemed to be getting fuller and fuller with the passing years. Leonardo thought that from the upper observation deck that had a railing wrapped around the entire main room of the lair. Behind him was the hall that led to his and his brother's private quarters as well as a couple guest rooms they hadn't needed the use of until most recently. Now, as he rested his forearms against the metallic railing his brown eyes traveled around the common room. Mikey sat on the sofa, paging through some sort of magazine that had the latest video game on the cover. Though they were approaching their thirties, Michelangelo still had a love of the gaming industry.

"Son of a BITCH! That HURT, Red!"

Leonardo lazily moved his attention to the left. The room was large enough to have a nice divided space for both their training as well as their recreational needs. Where there were sofas, pillows, and a television to the right: there were punching bags, weapon racks, and mats to the left. Standing in the middle of one of those mats was a brunette woman with a tribal tattoo on her right arm who barely reached Raph's shoulder in height. She was rubbing her stomach with a frown while Raphael stood there looking unamused with his hands up at the ready.

"You've hit me a lot harder than that, Doll."

"What did I say about the pet names?" she snapped, pointing a threatening finger at his brother. At first glance she didn't look like a threat standing in her simple red tank top and black canvas shorts but having trained with the young woman as well as her fellow sister in arms he knew better than to pass judgment.

"C'mon, Kitten, give a turtle a break," said Raphael, baiting her, and it worked. A fire came into her eyes as she tackled him down to the ground but instead of clocking his brother in the face she pinched him on his bicep. "Ow, ow! Okay Faith, sheesh! Way to act like a girl and PINCH me!"

"Would you prefer it if I just socked your ugly mug?" she asked sweetly, straddling his brother still on the mat, and looking a little too comfortable as she settled her bottom against his plastron. "I know how you like it rough, Red."

Oooooookaaayyy, a little TOO MUCH information.

"Gross!" shouted Mikey from his spot on the couch. "Don't talk about that here!"

"Yeah! SOME of us haven't had the privilege of sex in a while! It's totally unfair that you parade your active sex life around the place," complained a different female.

This one, Anya, was blonde and had her locks pulled back in a simple ponytail. She currently wore a gypsy style skirt the color of white with an intricate floral pattern the colors of purple and red. Her top was a deep plum color. She was sitting on the opposite side of the couch Mikey was on, slim legs crossed while she surfed the channels. Now was one of the moments she remained corporeal. Yes, Anya was a ghost, well: somewhat like a ghost. They tried to explain it to them, about how she was solid one moment and then transparent the next. She was stuck in limbo and was having the time of her life. Save for when she started to phase in and out. The first time she phased out she'd been sipping a cup of coffee then suddenly the mug was shattering on the floor and a pile of clothes were the only thing that indicated she'd been standing there.

Faith and her sister Slayer Buffy acted like it was no big deal and so had Anya when she had returned the next night to retrieve her clothing. She never said where she went but when she returned she looked like the typical ghost: pale with sunken looking eyes and a lack of energy. Now, however, she looked like a living, breathing human being with glowing skin and sparkling brown eyes that always seemed to have their gazed fixed upon his brother Donatello.

"Sorry, Anya," said Faith with a smirk before rising to her feet. She offered Raphael a hand but he gave her one of his signature glares before standing on his own. Faith offered him a mock pout before stepping off of the mat.

"No problem."

"What did she do now?" asked a new voice that had Leonardo's heart skipping a beat. He slowly turned his head to the left to see another blonde female, this one with blonde hair more golden than Anya's and emerald eyes that have captured him in their hold since the moment he met her. She had a small, quirky smile on her face as she moved to lean against the railing beside him. Her bare arm brushed his and he calmed his breathing as she blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. She… Unsettled him, made him unsure. He hadn't felt so out of sorts since… Since the night Splinter had passed. It had happened just a few years ago. Leonardo would like to think that he would have liked their new friends.

"Nothing," said Leonardo. "Just being Faith."

"That's what worries me," said Buffy Summers, the Chosen one, the Alpha Slayer. The girl that ran the entire branch of the Slayer Organization that battled the supernatural forces in the United States. The first time he saw her ram a stake in someone's chest he'd been ready to take her down for murder until seeing that "person" disintegrate into a pile of dust. His and his brothers' eyes had been opened to the supernatural that day, and the Scooby Gang, as they called themselves, came in contact with their first mutants. Since, with a branch of the organization being based in New York, they've become the best of friends. Just recently Leonardo and his brothers had helped take down a large nest of vampires that had been targeting the nightlife patrons that stumbled home taking short cuts with the use of back alleys. Leonardo had met the man named Xander who stated very loudly he didn't like "his girls" getting tangled up with mutants. Faith had told him to shut up, Anya had said something about no longer having a say in what she did, and Buffy had just rolled her eyes at her childhood friend before grabbing him by the ear into a private area of the graveyard they'd been in.

Sometime later, Xander had returned with a changed attitude that no one believed: not even Mikey.

"She's good for Raph," admitted Leo, getting back to talking about Faith, watching as Raphael flipped the brunette onto her back when she wasn't paying attention. "He doesn't have the energy to cause too much trouble with her around."

"True," said Buffy. "I guess I've seen her level out as well. She looks forward to her visits down here. Hell, the less time she spends in HQ the less I have to hear her complain about the junior slayers stealing her bags of chips."

Leonardo smiled at this.

"And you?" he asked. She was looking at him again, eyes imploring. "What's the reason you come down here? From what Anya told me you're usually running your own show in Cleveland."

She opened her mouth to answer but a ruckus had all eyes falling to the hall that led to Donatello's lab. There was a crash, a bang, and finally a curse which had Leo's lips twitching with amusement. Moments later Donatello was walking out of the lab looking like he'd been cleaning a chimney. He pulled off his goggles, a perfect outlining of the protective gear done in the black soot that covered most of his body.

"You all right over there?" asked Faith, sauntering off of the training mat in his direction, leaving Raphael sprawled out on his front rubbing his head.

"I'm fine! Nothing to worry about! I just miscalculated the timing in my newest invention. It shoots out an electrical pulse that makes all tech that isn't our own worthless. I think it was the springing mechanism with the trigger, it has a slight delay I didn't take into consideration."

"Your lab start on fire again?" asked Mikey, calmly setting his comic onto an end table (which was a milk crate because any nice furniture they got was broken within a week, something Buffy said she could relate to).

"What? No!" Knowing looks made the turtle with the purple bandana wrapped casually around his neck blush. "Okay, maybe a little one, but I put it out right away!"

"Still counts! Oh Raaappphhhh." sing-songed Mikey, holding out his hand in a 'grabby' fashion.

"Dammit, Don! Ya couldn't of lasted another damn day!" growled Raphael, using his arms to push his body up so that he was back onto his feet. With a dejected look on his face he started to rummage through his belt for his spare cash. The inflow of income had increased with the Slayer Organization's compensation every time they went out to assist the Slayers in either training exercises or large battles against demons… Something Leonardo had argued with Buffy and her mentor Giles about for hours. He hadn't wanted compensation for acting out his duty as a protector and it had taken both Raph and Don to convince him that the extra cash would especially help during winter when they couldn't go out as much to obtain food due to the freezing temperatures that made them almost useless.

Almost.

"What?" asked Don, rubbing his forehead with his forearm, making the soot streak a little.

"Mikey bet Raph that you would start your lab on fire three times this week with your new project," said Anya, stopping on a channel that had puppies on the screen. "Today was the last day. Aww look at the cute puppies!"

"Hey!" shouted a slightly put off Donatello. "I don't start my lab on fire that much!"

"Since the time I've met you, you've done it numerous times," said Anya casually.

Donatello huffed before leaving the main room, muttering under his breath as Raphael smacked a twenty into Mikey's palm; however he also smacked the back of his head as payback for losing his money. Mikey didn't complain, he just tucked the bill into his utility belt.

"I suppose," said Buffy with a sigh. "It's getting late. We need to start our patrol."

"Us as well," said Leonardo, pushing away from the railing. "I'll um... See you later then?"

"Sure," said Buffy with a smile before vaulting over the ledge and dismounting perfectly beside Faith. "Ready to kick some vampire ass?"

"Look who you're talkin' to," said Faith with a smirk.

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"Brittany block! Block! Cheese and rice that girl," huffed Violet, aka Vi, as she leaned casually against a gravestone. It was close to midnight and the transition into Fall was just starting with the cooler nights. Vi was comfortable enough in her jeans and Green Lantern t-shirt but the time would soon come where she'd need her wool coat, hat, and fingerless gloves for nights like this. Well, nights that she didn't have a mound of paperwork to do. Since taking over New York command with Faith her life had grown a little more hectic: the craziness coming in the form of a heck of a lot of paperwork. She missed being out in the field and she took advantage of nights like this.

"She's getting better," commented Faith, sticking her hand into a bag of BBQ chips. Unlike Vi, Faith refused to stay indoors when things needed to be killed, and so she took the role of trainer. As Faith took a large bite of potato chips, Vi wondered if she'd drew the short end of the stick. The loud crunch or potato chips in Faith's mouth distracted the vampire enough to have Brittany launch into the air, her knee crushing the windpipe of the vampire. However, since they didn't breathe, it was more of an annoyance to the vampire than anything. Brittany brought a booted foot upwards, cracked the vampire's jaw before twisting around with the stake in her manicured hand. When the vampire was dust, Britt looked very pleased with herself and almost skipped to Faith. Faith honestly couldn't stand the Barbie girl that just started fitting into the group after about a month of complaining about missing the Hamptons for the FIRST SUMMER EVER.

Christ.

"I got him!" shouted Brittany with glee.

"Uh huh," said Faith, licking her fingers. "You need to keep your block up otherwise you're gunna get your ass kicked. That was a weak, fresh vampire. Had he been on the same level as Spike or Angel you'd be dead."

Spike and Angel ran a more supernatural powered base in Los Angeles. People that weren't Slayers but had powers like Illyria and Connor worked there. Anya had originally popped up in Los Angeles and Willow had traveled there to investigate. Surprisingly, Anya had returned to the Cleveland branch and Willow had stayed behind to fight the battle in L.A. with a coven of witches she had stumbled across. Faith herself had been tempted to go but the option to be her own boss with Vi in N.Y.C. had been too tempting to say no to. She'd been apprehensive at first due to her failures in Sunnydale but with encouragement from Buffy and even Giles along with the pleading of Vi: she had accepted.

Good thing too, cause if she hadn't, she wouldn't be having the best sex in her life with a mutant that gave as good as he got! Raphael was a nice… Distraction. Someone to go to but not be tied down with. She liked the thing she had going with him and unlike Robin, he was more than willing to accept the fact that there might not be more than killing and sex between them. Hell, that just made her like the damn ninja even more. Oh, and the whole ninja thing? Totally hot.

A noise had all three Slayers turning to see Buffy come out with her group. The two girls she had been training looked like they'd been tied to the back of a truck and dragged through the mud. One of the girls had long, black hair with purple streaks, holey jeans, and a tight top that accentuated her curves. She had piercings in her eyebrow and ears and a stud that looked almost like a beauty mark right above her lip. Surprisingly, she knew their new mutant friends very well.

"How'd it go?" asked Faith, digging for more chips.

"Ran into a Fyarl demon," said Angel Bridge: friend to the turtles, and a girl who learned how to fight even before being chosen.

"Damn," cursed Vi. "I thought we took care of them a while back. They just keep coming."

"Angel , go ahead and head back to HQ," said Buffy, taking on her role as leader flawlessly. Faith and Vi didn't argue, though New York was their rodeo, the whole Organization was Buffy's show. Besides, the Elite Slayers had to all agree that the Junior Slayers looked a little ragged. "Oh, and Angel? Mikey says he wants his comic book back."

"Tell him no dice till he apologizes for the shampoo incident," said Angel while walking away with a chuckle.

Buffy, Faith, and Violet were the three remaining Slayers. They each picked a respective headstone to lean against or sit on. It was a quiet night, even with the Fyarl demon, and the girls decided to enjoy it. In the distance they heard cars and people walking by, oblivious as to what was hidden in the shadows.

"So, what? Think the Fyarl was a lone soldier or was he running errands for someone?" asked Faith, crumpling up her bag and tucking it into her back pocket.

"Noticed any increased activity?" asked Buffy.

"Not really. It's been…" Faith and Vi shared a look then finished the sentence together. "Quiet."

"Oh boy," said Buffy, bringing her hand up to her forehead, a sure sign of stress. "That's never good."

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"Hey," whispered a female figure that slowly crawled into the bed of a mutant turtle.

"Hey," he said sleepily, tugging his headphones off his head. He'd been close to falling asleep so his voice was a deep, husky tone which made her insides clench with anticipation. "What'cha doing here?"

"I'm done for the night," she said, shrugging a shoulder. "Thought I'd come see you."

"What time is it?" he asked tiredly as she leaned down to press her lips against his neck.

"Three," she whispered, her breath dancing across his tougher skin as her lips continued their journey to his. He moaned softly as she straddled him fully, her dark, damp hair falling around their heads like a curtain as she slipped her tongue inside his mouth. He sighed, opening his mouth to her as his three-fingered hands clenched against her bare hips: save for a pair of black, laced boyshort panties. She tasted like beer, and not the crap Casey and Raph bought but the good kind. His hands traveled to the globes of her ass and massaged the flesh there as she deepened the kiss. "Apologize for the shampoo…"

"Gimmie my comic back," he demanded softly, one hand trailing up her back beneath her simple black tank. His breath hitched when he found she wore no bra and immediately went to her front, his roughened palms sliding over her sensitive skin. She moaned softly as he tugged gently on her pierced nipple and she eagerly threw off her tank-top, tossing it to the side where she'd shimmied out of her jeans and tugged off her boots.

"Later, Mikey," she said, her brown eyes glossed over with desire that was evident in his now sapphire blue.

"Yeah," he agreed, rolling so that she was on the bottom. He nuzzled her neck then kissed and licked his way down to her breasts. His tongue laved at the nipples, teeth tugging on the silver hoops, making her mewl in pleasure while a hand traveled between her legs. His large fingers slid under the lace material of her panties and a digit immediately sunk between her folds. She moaned loudly and he pressed his lips to hers as she rocked against his moving middle finger. "Shhhh Angel… Quiet…"

Her eyes screwed shut and she bit her lower lip as she opened her legs wider, heels digging into his springy mattress as his thick finger assaulted her pussy, vaginal walls fluttering as she got wetter by the second. He kissed her again, tongue roughly dancing with hers as both her hands went up to frame his bare face. Her fingers danced over his freckles and down his neck to his peppered shoulders and she shuddered as his devilish thumb pressed into her clit.

"Come for me baby," he whispered against her lips, focusing on her clit, pressing into it, thumb moving rapidly against it and she arched off the mattress as she came at his command. Not quite breathless she flipped him onto his shell once he extracted his fingers. Turning so her back was to him she found the object of her desire and leaned forward. His legs twitched as her hair tickled his inner thighs and there, hard and ready for her, was his thick cock. "Angel…"

"Shhh… Quiet baby," she whispered, her lips brushing against his tip as she spoke and he murmured something in Japanese she didn't understand as she let his green member slide into her wet mouth. His hands went back to her hips, his wet fingertips smearing her arousal along the curvy dip of her hips while she sucked his cock so deeply inside her mouth he felt his enlarged tip press against the back of her throat. He was too big to take all at once but she made up for that by licking him from the base where his cock dropped out of his shell to tip like she was licking an overly large popsicle. Her blunt fingernails danced around his tail and just when he was about to cum he tugged gently on her hair to signal her to stop.

Gracefully they transitioned positions, like a dance they've done many, many, MANY times she eased her legs wide open to him after he trailed her panties down her legs, and he burrowed himself inside her. He pressed his forehead to hers, fighting for control as those damn Slayer muscles of hers strangled the hell out of his dick. He took one, two, three deep breaths before opening his eyes. He saw the sparkling, amused ones of Angel watching him carefully.

"Okay there, Tiger?" she asked softly, hands going up to his cheeks. She did that often, cupped his face like it was a treasure or something and it made him weak. ALWAYS made him weak and even now he felt the strain in his arms as he balanced his weight to keep from crushing her. Though she's told him many times not to worry it was hard for him to think of her as indestructible with her softness all around him.

"Fine," he said with a grin before turning serious. He nuzzled her neck, rubbing his scent on her like always. The first time Raph smelled it he'd threatened to kick his ass but Angel, at the time having been nineteen, had threatened to kick his shell if he interfered. Casey hadn't liked it right away either but then Angel had turned into a super soldier and no one, not even "big brother Casey and Raph" could tell her what to do. Though Mikey had a sneaking suspicion that before meeting Faith, Raph had wanted Angel for himself.

Too fucking bad.

"Michelangelo," she murmured, hips bucking against him, impatient. "Fuck me."

"Whatever my Princess wants…" He started moving, the luxurious feel of the give and pull of her pussy on his cock electrifying. "…she gets."

They worked up to a frenzy, heated skin pressing against cool plastron while dexterous fingers maneuvered around the whorls of his shell. He licked at her exposed neck, the taste of salt on his tongue driving him further. He lowered to a plank position, her legs wrapping around him as much as they could as he cupped the back of her head in his hands, gripping her hair: the feel of it falling through his fingertips noticeable as he slanted his mouth over hers. He rocked faster, the springs of his mattress protesting slightly as they squeaked in time with his thrusts.

Faster, she begged. Deeper… Always deeper and he gave her what she wanted. His full length filled her between her legs and she arched upwards, a silent prayer on her lips as he pistoned inside of her. Michelangelo preferred their slow lovemaking, the kind that lasted for hours, but even he was desperate for his release tonight. He kept one hand in her hair while the other trailed lower to her leg, he pulled it up higher, stretching her as her leg curved around his inner elbow and they both gasped for air as the new sensation stretched her even more.

"Fu-uh-Mike…" she rambled, on and on, trying to form words and forgetting about it as he continued to attack her body.

The quickie lasted a lot longer than expected. She was so close, her hair now damp with sweat as her exerted body pressed onwards. His normally cool skin was heated as well, blood pounding in his ears: the squeaks of the mattress increasing, bodies sliding and grinding into one another until Angel found his shoulder and bit down into it just as she started coming. She screamed into his skin, her body trembling as he roared at the feel of her teeth shredding his skin. Desperately, with blood running down his shoulder he found the spot where her neck met shoulder and licked the area. His bite broke her skin much like hers had and the taste of her skin, her salt, her blood: had him going over the edge. He emptied deeply within her, his hot seed coating her rapidly seizing inner walls and he found himself still thrusting a second orgasm making him fall completely on top of her.

She didn't complain, she wrapped her arms around his neck trying to regain her breath. She felt the sting of her shoulder and wondered when it would start to heal. He wasn't so luckily gifted with healing powers and she twisted her neck around to see. Blood trailed from the open wound, slowly dripping from his shoulder onto her bare chest: droplets traveling then pooling at the valley of her breasts.

"Fuck, Mikey," she said, concerned. "You okay?"

His only reply was a grunt. He still hadn't moved.

"Baby?" she whispered, palms sliding up and down his arms.

"Hm?" he asked, lifting up his head, a dazed look on his face. His eyes traveled to her bite mark and instead of remorse she saw something else. Desire. Raw desire which turned even richer as he brought his hand up to cup the spot she bit in return. "Angel…"

"Yeah?" she asked, the dick that had been slowly retracting now growing in size again. She purred as he thrust against her. He bent and licked at the spot he'd bitten and her eyes fluttered closed once more as her lover continued to move inside her.

They continued on until the sun was well over the horizon, sleep capturing them only after she had ridden him for the second time that night. They fell asleep, she curled up on top of his plastron, ear pressed to where his racing heart was and he with his face pressed into the salty yet sweet mass of hair at the top of her head.

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Donatello jumped as an electrical pulse zapped his finger. Cursing, he brought the throbbing digit to his mouth and sucked on it while glaring down at his device. He was starting to get frustrated and that led to him making mistakes. Well, that as well as lack of sleep. He'd been ready to go to bed, honest, but the telltale sound of a squeaking mattress coming from Mikey's room and the wanton moans coming from Raph's had him complete an about-face and head back to the lab for safety. He was happy for his brothers, really, but nothing was more embarrassing than hearing your brothers participate in their… Extracurricular activities.

Deciding that he wasn't about to get any sleep anytime soon, at least until after training, he figured coffee would be a good idea. Checking the clock he saw that it was pushing five in the morning. He wondered if Leo was awake yet. Usually he started his mornings off by meditating in Splinter's room. They had decided to leave it be, to let it continue to be a place to go to for solace: even though the person they sought guidance from was gone.

Sighing he ventured through the living and training area, the only sound that of the moving water by a large pool they sometimes used as an alternate access point. He made it to the kitchen and flicked on the light and nearly jumped out of his shell upon seeing Anya sitting at the table quietly. She looked different today, her hair down in softened blonde curls and he realized that she had no color. Anya was a fan of color, especially when it came to clothing, but today she wore a strapless white dress and her feet were bare. Donatello was still working around the science that was Anya. She was a ghost and when she phased out she left everything, even the earrings she had been wearing: behind. However, when she teleported, she brought everything with her and when she wanted to she could think hard enough and become transparent: as did her clothes. He just DIDN'T get it and it was driving him INSANE not knowing all the answers to the enigma that was Anya.

"Hey…" she said softly, slowly turning her head up to look at him.

"Hi." He went to the cupboard, pulled out his mug, and then set it by the already brewing coffeepot. "Who…"

"I heard you tinkering around in there. I figured you'd need it sooner or later. I wanted to help now because…" She looked down at her hands. "It's happening. I can feel it."

"You're going to phase out?" he asked with slight concern, taking in her paler than usual face.

She drove him insane, not nearly as much as Faith, but she was high up there with her innuendos and constant chatter. She literally made him TICK some days when she'd stand at his shell and ask a million questions about what he was doing. At times he wished she were more like April, so that he didn't have to explain everything all the time, but then other times he liked telling her. He liked that someone actually CARED about what he was doing instead of just shake their head at him and go off to play games or beat the snot out of someone.

"I think so," she said, sounding almost scared.

"Where do you go?" he asked, pouring his coffee then going to the table. He pulled out a chair, wood scraping against the concrete floor before he sat down: making the old chair creak from his weight. She looked down at her hands, which were clenched on the table and he put his hand over hers. "Anya?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She looked up at him and he almost gasped at the dead look that was now in her eyes. "I… I'm not dead… I'm not alive… I'm nothing." He squeezed her hand a little tighter but she continued on. "Sometimes I wish I never came back. Why am I here? Why can't I just…"

She broke off, standing abruptly from the table. Donatello stood with her. She was phasing in and out again, her clothing rippling with her, giving her the allusion of floating. He moved to take her by the shoulders but his hands went right through them.

"Anya!"

"Why can't I just die?" she whispered brokenly before disappearing, the only sign that she'd been there the white dress that fluttered to the ground before his feet.

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TBC…


	2. Chapter Two

Dis: I don’t own TMNT nor BTVS  
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All she knew was pain. Red-hot agony which slashed at her chest like a whip. The sickening smell of burnt flesh and blood assaulted her nose as she fought the tar-like bounds that threatened to pull her into the abyss. Whispers traveled over her bare flesh, promising nothing but sweet torture: licking at her, leaving blisters on her skin.

Then there was a light; and all the pain and feelings of helplessness vanished. She opened her eyes and instead of the demons of her past she saw her decomposed body. This was where she always ended up, in the skeletal remains of Sunnydale High standing over what ended up being her grave. She stared down at the empty eye sockets, the shattered pieces of bone where the enemy sword had sliced through her like hot steel through butter. The weapon she had been using had bony fingers curled around it. Debris and dust covered the site like a blanket, the colorless scape growing more and more depressing after every visit. In the darker recesses of the school and beyond she could hear the movements of those left behind that had escaped the soul blasting light only to be forever trapped underground: forever hunting others for survival.

Anya had seen an uber-vamp once and the thing had snarled at her like a rabid dog and charged. It had tried to get its claws into her numerous times before realizing she was nothing but a ghost. It had snapped its hungry jaws at her once before leaping back into the darkness to find something else to feed on. Anya had told Buffy this and though concerned there was not much she could do unless they escaped the pit: and Anya made it clear she wasn’t going to attack them alone. The irrational fear of dying, along with the unknown consequences if she ‘died’ again, would she be stuck down there? There was no way in hell she was going to live out her ghostly-eternity in her gravesite.

Deciding to leave, Anya closed her eyes to concentrate. When she first came back she was weak and barely had enough juice in her to zap from point A to point B. Usually she went to her personal room set up for her in Slayer Central but this time her thoughts focused on something else.

SOMEONE else.

His eyes came to mind first. Hues of a desert at sunset with the burnt colors of orange and red, kind and empathetic. She remembered how he looked at her before she vanished, the concern and perhaps a little fear as she started to vanish from his sight. She remembered the warmth of his hand and decision made she phased to the lair instead of her room. Aware that she was naked she popped into a guest room that Buffy used. Finding it empty, Anya was ready to start searching for clothes but halted when seeing her dress folded neatly on top of a perfectly made bed. Sighing with relief she slipped it on.

She walked barefoot down the hall, her movements a whisper as she felt the crashing waves of fatigue press down on her shoulders. When she came back to whatever chamber of hell she’d been in, she was always so tired. Once she slept two days straight before waking up. She wanted a bed but she wanted to see Donatello first. The need stemmed from her believing she was doing him a favor, showing him that she was just fine and the fear that had been in his eyes had been for naught.

The lair was quiet so either everyone was sleeping or everyone was out patrolling. Peeking into Raphael’s room she saw an empty hammock but when she poked her head into Mikey’s room she saw the slayer Angel in the embrace of Michelangelo. When she reached Donatello’s room she was surprised to actually see him sleeping in his bed. She had looked into his room not actually expecting him to be in it. Usually when she was over, no matter the time of day, he was always in his lab. Swallowing nervously she started toward the large mass that rest upon the bed. Fiddling her fingers she sat onto the bed and as it depressed his eyes snapped open and a hand shot out to her throat. She tensed, blinked once, but the fingers didn’t depress on her neck. Upon seeing who she was, Donatello slid his hand from her throat down to her arm.

“Anya?” He sat up, stifling a yawn as he took in her appearance. She looked at him too, noticing that his mask and pads were off. “You’re back!”

“How long was I gone?” she asked hollowly.

“Two days.” She nodded, not surprised. “You okay?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m tired. I just wanted to let you know I was fine. I’ll take a bed upstairs. Since I was gone for two days I’ll probably sleep for one.”

She moved to leave but his hand caught her wrist. Slowly her eyes moved from his hand to his face. She saw the questions swimming in his eyes but he didn’t voice them. His thumb slid over the thin skin of her wrist and she broke their eye contact to look down at her lap.

“Anya look at me.” She did. “It’s okay. We’ll figure whatever this is out.”

“Maybe,” she said softly.

“Hey.” His fingertip pressed to the underside of her chin, tilting her head up, keeping her attention. He looked suddenly serious. Determined. “We will. Willow was looking into it.”

“Willow and I don’t have the best history,” she said. “I’m sure she has better things to do than help the woman that she never got along with.”

“I’LL look into it,” emphasized Donatello, making Anya smile.

“Can I stay here?” she asked suddenly. “I mean, I just...” She sighed. “Forget it.”

She moved to go but he pulled her back, shifting on the bed he opened a spot for her. Tentatively she swung her legs onto the bed and lay down next to Donatello. He hesitated only a moment before wrapping an arm around her waist and she lay her head down on the upper plates of his chest, her own arm curling around him as well. His warmth, the feel of someone solid, his determination to help her: it helped take away some of her tension and suddenly she wasn’t feeling as alone as she had been since the first time she woke up beneath the Sunnydale crater.

“Thank you,” she whispered before she fell into a dreamless sleep, unaware of the soft kiss he pressed against her temple. A kiss filled with a promise that he would do anything to save her.

The walls he put up since his heartbreak in his teenage years were crumbling down. His love for April O’Neil had bloomed the moment he first seen the redhead. He had tried to impress her with his fighting skills, intellect, kindness, and whatever else he could throw at her. She had ignored his passes and things only got worse when she met the meathead Casey Jones. All her blue eyes saw was the handsome man and it seemed like the looks were great enough for her to overlook the fact that he had the mental and emotional capacity of a rock.

These past few months Anya has wormed her way into his life and the fact that SHE came to HIS room and asked to lay in bed with him has his heart hammering in his chest. Though she was technically a ghost, she was warm and fit perfectly in the circle of his arms. If she were dead, would she be this warm? She smelled of the earth and something else sweet and he relaxed, eyes closing as he enjoyed the feel of a woman in his arms for the first time in years.  
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‘Anya is here.’

 

The text from her junior slayer Angel had Buffy sighing in relief. When not seeing Anya sleeping in her room after the usual two day absence had her concerned. They were working hard in trying to find out what the hell was going on with her but Willow was getting no answers from her books or even her link with the PTB and Buffy lost track of how many demons and other supernatural creatures she asked about Anya’s case. Some had remembered Anya from her Vengeance Demon days and offered their help more freely either out of misplaced fear for the demon that no longer existed or a sense of duty to one of their own.

Nothing. Nada. Big fat zero. The one that related most closely to her was Spike, who had been a ghost himself for a while before becoming solid again. His case had been a little different but Buffy was starting to believe that some sort of curse was pulling Anya’s soul into hell and someone, somewhere, was bringing her back every time.

Who?

“All this thinking and not knowing is making my head hurt,” she muttered, massaging her temples.

Rising from her chair she grabbed her phone before rushing out of the small office she kept for herself when she was in town. It wasn’t the size of Vi’s but she liked it that way. It wasn’t until recently that she started spending more time here and those she left behind in Cleveland were starting to ask if she was going to come back. What was supposed to be a week visit had turned into a month. As of now she was using the increased fyarl demon activity and the lack of anything else being on the radar as an excuse to stay behind. The signs of a major event were rearing their ugly heads and Buffy being Buffy: decided that staying would be a good idea.

Xander and Giles, as usual, spoke of their distrust of the new males in her life. They weren’t human, so she had to ‘be careful about who she trusted with her secrets.’

Insert stern face.

Willow and Dawn just asked if she trusted the turtles and their friends. When Buffy had said yes, they took the answer to heart then turned the discussion over to a new direction. Shopping. Slicing and dicing. The usual things.

Faith, obviously, loved the turtles and so did Anya. Buffy had a slayer in training that was dating one of them as well. Over the years Buffy has learned read people better. When she tuned into the turtles she saw nothing but honorable ninjas that protected the weak from those that took advantage of the weak. Now, not only did they take on street thugs but they dusted a vampire here and there and were a hell of a lot of fun to train with.

Speaking of: it was three in the afternoon and she had a date to keep. Date. The word had her blushing like a teenager. It wasn’t a date, not really. Leonardo was more of a training buddy, someone different. He made the comment that her different fighting style and strength kept him on his toes. Upon seeing how efficiently she healed and that a punch from him wouldn’t knock do much damage he had turned up the volume in their sessions and even managed to knock her on her ass a few times.

There was that and there was the fact that like her, he was a leader, and had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Like her he had to keep his fellow brothers’ in arms in check, had to figure out the best way to execute their talents. Like her he was protecting the people of the world without them knowing. They had both gotten nothing at first but the organization was turning that around for the both of them.

These feelings were irrational. It wasn’t like he even found her attractive or liked her in that way... Right? The part of her that wanted to love first and ask questions later was rearing her ugly head. Buffy at first wondered if distance would be the best medicine, to maybe run back to Cleveland and never come back but...

Yes, he was a mutated turtle, a little younger than her, and lived in the sewers but he was Leonardo. He was everything she’d been looking for in a significant other and much, much more.

Buffy made a small, pained noise at the back of her throat before thunking her forehead against the nearest wall.  
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Faith rolled onto her stomach, stretching her limbs languidly while pulling strands of hair out of her face. Smirking at the turtle beside her hogging the pillows and snoring softly she rolled out of bed in the nude and headed for the shower. Having patrolled till late at night with the kids, she had found herself wanting a little side action and met up with Raphael. Together they took on a couple straggler vamps but nothing too crazy. They had ran into some Purple Dragons hassling a couple drunk girls trying to get home taking a short cut.

Faith snorted, stepping into the shower. When would people learn? You never took a shortcut through a dark, unknown alley in the middle of the night.... Not unless you wanted to get attacked, robbed, or worse. After, they had decided to crash at her apartment. Not her room at Slayer Academy, but a small place she had of her own that she paid for with her salary. When she got in her funk and needed to be away from people for a while this was where she went and now this was where she brought Raph for their alone time. Well, there was a couple times they got creative in his hammock, but the privacy was nice.

Funny thing, until recently, she avoided human confrontation. Accidents seemed to happen around her and humans were so damn... Weak. She was a killer, went to jail for her crime even (well, until she broke out, and she had liked her freedom too much to go back). Her control was better, hell she did more damage by breaking weapons like baseball bats though last night she HAD popped one guy in the face. Not hard, more like a tiny slap, though she was certain he would have a bruise this morning.

Twisting the nobs the water ran over her form and she closed her eyes, turning into the water spray with a smirk on her face as she felt the slight twinge between her legs. Damn she loved his cock, the length and girth alone was impressive. He hadn’t been a virgin when she met him but she still was teaching him a few things and he was more than willing to listen, especially when he could go that extra step with her without worrying that she’d break. Firm holds, sharp bites, interesting positions that made her muscles burn: she loved it all.

Quickly washing her hair and body she turned off the water. Snagging a towel off the rack she dried her hair then patted at her skin before tossing the brown towel to the tiled floor. She brushed her teeth, took a drink of water, then exited the bathroom. Steam followed her out as she walked leisurely to the bed she had left her lover in. Sometime in her absence his arm had reached out for her and an annoying tug at her heart had her frowning.

She had tried the whole relationship thing with Robin and had failed miserably. Since then she had resigned herself to be forever single, kicking ass and taking names, then this fucker had come into her life and fucked her plans all up. Their unspoken rule was that this whole thing was supposed to be FUN, a stress reliever... Here she was, falling for a turtle with attitude and muscles like a body builder.

Shaking these nasty feelings aside she went to his side of the bed and bent at the waist to trail her fingertips up his calf muscle, slowly she moved to the inside of his knee, higher to his thigh and he shifted when she got to that special place where his tail and dick resided. He admitted that he hated his tail, though he needed it to function down there, and didn’t like it when she gave it too much attention when his dick wasn’t out even though it was a large erogenous zone for the turtle.

His arm lashed out like snake, hand coiling around her wrist and with a twist she was beneath him and she was soon staring at an amber eyed turtle with morning breath. He was quiet, not quite awake yet, but slowly the clouds lifted and his grip on her wrist loosened as he started nuzzling her neck.

“Yer wet,” he whispered against her skin, her damp hair sticking to his cheek.

“In more ways than one,” she purred, legs eagerly opening wider as her hands went up his plated chest, over his shoulders as he murmured something she couldn’t understand in her ear. Her eyes closed and she bit her lip in pleasure as a hand traveled down her side, over her stomach, and between her legs. A long, thick finger inserted itself inside her and she sighed as he slowly played with her pussy. Always a battle for the top position she forced her eyes open to attack his neck the same way he had with hers, teeth scraping against his neck. With his shell she relinquished the top position more than usual but this morning she wanted the control. She twisted them around and he had no problem with it, hands settling on her outer thighs as she leaned down to kiss his much larger, yet pliant lips.

“Your breath stinks,” she muttered, dipping her minty tongue into his mouth.

“Sorry,” he said, though the snark let her know he didn’t mean it.

“Uh huh,” she said, rolling her eyes and hips at the same time. “Come out of your shell already so that I can fuck you.”

“You have a way with words, Doll,” he said.

“What can I say?” she asked. “Its part of my charm. Also...” She pressed her lips to his, nails digging lightly into his shoulders as she squeezed him with her thighs. He shifted, uncomfortable with her threatening pressure. “What did I say about the nicknames?”

“C’mon,” he whispered, and suddenly something very lengthy and delicious was sliding over her clit and his hands cupped her ass and he teased her by grinding against her slit. “We’re alone, and I think ya like the nicknames.”

“Nope,” she murmured, licking up the length of his neck, reaching down between their bodes to grip his dick. His whole body shuddered as she started a quick pace at the get go. Soon she was slamming her hips down and he was buried to the hilt inside of her. Dual moans sounded in the small room and his powerful hands shifted his body so he was leaning back more comfortably against the headboard, legs outstretched ,and her hands came up to grip the top of her headboard for leverage. Both of his hands rested on her hips as she started moving. It wasn’t slow and loving: it was fast and furious. Both were panting within minutes, like they were running a marathon at a full on sprint. Her hands clenched against the iron bar of her headboard, bending it slightly as her slayer muscles tightened deliciously around his cock.

Kisses, sharp with teeth. Biting caresses with blunted nails. Electric jolts making muscles tighten then tremble with need as the movement of their hips crescendoed, soft skin slamming into hardened shell. So close, he cheated with a flick of his nail against her clit and a bite at her neck. He rushed forward and she is back on her back; her knees pressed to the mattress by his hands as he fucked her with sharp, snapped movements. Desperate for release she reached between their bodies and found that sweet spot and played with herself with one hand, the other hand flat on the wall behind her. Bent iron of the headboard a staccato against the wall. A deep churr vibrated in his chest before being released against the skin of her neck as her orgasm strangled his cock deliciously.

It was all the stimulus his cock needed and soon he was emptying inside her.

They didn’t cuddle. They fucked, rolled off of each other, and if they weren’t sick of the company they sometimes shared a bed so that they could start again. So when he fell to his side and pulled her in by the waist by banding an arm around her. Both panicked not just because Raphael pulled her in, but because she allowed it and because her body melted against him easily. Suddenly the air was a little tense as they both of them tried to decide what the fuck it was they were doing.

“Uh...” He cleared his throat. “So what’cha up to later?”

She shrugged a shoulder, an angry bite mare already fading. “Training some girls. Going over some reports cause some things aren’t adding up.”

“Serious?” he asked.

“Not sure. I’ll let you know.”

Silence. His fingertips were making distracting circles on the dip of her hips and stomach and she was no matter, trailing her hands down his differently textured arms. Her eyes went to the clock and she sighed and she wasn’t quite sure if it was out of relief or regret.

“I gotta go in.” She pulled away from the turtle and started walking around her room looking for clothes. “I’ll call you later?”

“Sure,” he said, standing as well, reaching for the belt he had draped over her dresser. Together they got ready, went in the kitchen, and each of them snagged a soda and some fruit from a bowl she had gotten as a house warming gift from Vi. It wasn’t until she was halfway to HQ and he to the lair that they realized something. From getting dressed, getting breakfast, and that small kiss they shared before parting ways it all stated one thing. They had been acting all... DOMESTIC. When they got to their respective destinations, they each went to the gym, the sudden need to beat the shit out of something taking over.

“I have to break up with him,” she whispered, hugging the punching bag in exhaustion. “I’m getting too close.”

“Fuck,” he cursed, hugging his own punching bag the same way she was holding hers “I love her.”  
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TBC...

More to come soon!

Read more: http://tmntlair.hyperboards.com/action/view_topic/topic_id/322/latest/1#ixzz2evhcAkIq


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